


Relaxation

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [29]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Sharing Clothes, Sleepy Cuddles, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Tattoos, gene being unbearably sexy, oh yeah, witch gene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 10:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Babe closed his eyes and thought to himself: This right here?  This is perfect.





	Relaxation

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up immediately where the last part left off.
> 
> Also, you're welcome ;)

Their shoulders brushed and their elbows touched as Gene washed and Babe dried the dishes. Every few seconds, Babe noticed Gene glance at him, but when Babe looked, Gene turned away, a small smirk curving the corner of his lips. Babe chuckled and nudged Gene with his hip. Gene’s dark eyes smiled too. 

After Babe had dried the last dish, he dipped his hand in the rinse water and flicked the clinging droplets at Gene, laughing as the other man finally turned to face him, brow quirked in challenge. “You tryin’ to start somethin’, Edward?” Gene drawled, voice low and slow, thick with his Cajun accent.

“What if I am?” Babe smirked. “You feelin’ up for it?”

“Oh,” Gene murmured, taking a step closer and crowding Babe back against the sink, “I think you’ll find I am.” Babe gulped, and he felt his eyes widen. Gene flicked his dark eyes up to Babe’s with a question. Babe nodded dumbly, and Gene leaned in, pressing his plush, warm lips against Babe’s, and Babe couldn’t help it, he gasped and opened, and Gene pressed closer, the length of his body pinning Babe to the counter, the tip of his tongue running over Babe’s bottom lip. Then he kissed him again, deeper, and Babe groaned, his hands fluttering for a moment before settling on Gene’s hips, holding him close as the other man continued to taste him. Finally, Gene pulled back for a moment, gasping, eyes even darker than usual. “Your room.” He murmured.

Babe nodded. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, come on.” He reached out for Gene’s hand and tugged him back toward the stairs, then up to his room. He kicked the door closed behind them, and then Gene was there again, his hands in Babe’s hair, mouth hot and hungry, devouring, as he licked into Babe’s. All the hair on Babe’s arms stood up, and he felt the buzz of static go through him, but he didn’t care, couldn’t, because all he could think of was the feel of Gene, the taste of him, his warmth and the blessed weight of Gene pressing him back into the door. _God, _it was everything Babe could’ve asked for, everything he’d dreamt about.

“_Gene,_” he whined, his hands sliding under Gene’s shirt to feel the smooth, taut skin underneath. 

“What do ya want, Edward? Tell me.”

“You,” Babe gasped. Gene sucked at his earlobe then bit it lightly. “God, you. I just want you.”

Gene pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss against Babe’s neck then drew back slowly, so that he could gaze at Babe with his deep, dark, unfathomable eyes. Babe thought he might fall right in. Gene licked his lips and murmured, “Have me, then.”

Babe’s mouth went dry, and his mind went blank, but his hands were moving on their own, reaching for Gene, and then Babe was pressing forward, backing Gene toward the bed. Babe’s fingers were nimble and insistent as he grasped the hem of Gene’s t-shirt and tugged it up and over Gene’s head. His fingers went to Gene’s fly then, and he unbuttoned it easily, then Gene’s knees hit the mattress and he tumbled back, pulling Babe down with him. 

Babe braced himself above the other man, then leaned down to kiss him, his lips already swollen and hot. Gene groaned and tipped his head back, bearing his throat. Babe’s brain whited out further, but his mouth knew what to do—he kissed and sucked, and licked, and Gene panted underneath him, and Babe’s body was moving without thought, on pure sensation and instinct. His hand found its way into Gene’s pants, and then suddenly it was wrapped around Gene’s length, and Gene hissed a curse in French, and his own hands were scrambling over Babe’s back, hauling him closer, closer. “_Fuck,” _Gene murmured, his nails scraping against the cotton of Babe’s shirt. 

Babe moved his hand, fingers tightening _just right, _and it pulled a whine from the back of Gene’s throat, and Babe thought he was gonna lose his mind, he’d never been so turned on in his life. He dipped forward and pressed his mouth to Gene’s, kissing deep, before trailing his mouth down the man’s chin, then his throat, and another spike of desire rolled down Babe’s spine when he felt the rumble of Gene’s voice in his throat, muttering in French again, as Babe’s hand continued to work him. He gulped a breath, then mouthed at Gene’s collarbone, then moved down further, the expanse of Gene’s pale chest laid out before him, his for the taking. Babe moved back, just an inch, to get a better look, and his blood roared in his ears. His breath hitched, and he licked his lips, hand stuttering before he continued the rhythm.

Gene had ink in his skin. 

Blue and black designs that Babe couldn’t decipher twisted across Gene’s beautiful, smooth, pale skin. One of them wrapped around a hip bone and rose up toward a rib. Another twined around to Gene’s back in a design Babe thought looked like vines. And finally, a star, wreathed in flame, sat above his heart.

Without thinking, Babe leaned forward and kissed it, and then Gene’s hand was in his hair, twisting, tightening, as Babe dragged his teeth over it, then moved his mouth to the side and sucked at one of Gene’s dusky nipples. 

Gene’s hips writhed desperately under Babe’s weight, so Babe sped up his ministrations, until finally, finally, Gene choked out another curse, and then he was tumbling, falling, his eyes fluttering shut, dark lashes fanning over his cheeks, mouth dropping open as his head tipped back, and _God, _it was the single best thing Babe had ever seen. Then he felt warmth cover his hand. 

He paused for a moment. Everything did. He couldn’t do anything but breathe as he absorbed what had just happened, that he’d just brought Gene to orgasm in his little bed in South Philly. A moment passed. And then, with energy that Babe couldn’t imagine, Gene was flipping them so that he could straddle Babe, and his own long, capable fingers went to work. And Babe was helpless then—he let Gene do what he wanted, content to stare up at him: dark hair disheveled, lips red, eyes hooded, tattoos right in Babe’s line of sight.

It didn’t take long before Babe tipped over the edge too, and then the room was quiet except for their panting breaths, and Gene’s soft chuckle as he dropped to the bed beside Babe, his hand already stretching possessively across Babe’s belly, and Babe felt another rush of pleasure roll through him at the action. 

He turned his head to face the other man, and Gene was already looking at him, his dark eyes soft. Gene leaned forward and pressed another kiss against Babe’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good,” Gene murmured. Babe reached up and grasped his hand, where it still lay against his belly, and twined their fingers together.

“Yeah,” Babe breathed. “Me, too.”

And Gene’s answering smile was beautiful.

* * *

The shower was small, but they didn’t need much space. The spray beat down on Gene while Babe pressed him up against the wall to kiss him, again. He’d never get tired of the taste and feel of Gene, he knew that, already. There was nothing like this man, not anywhere else in the world. And he was _here, _with Babe, moaning and murmuring prettily as Babe ran the soapy sponge over Gene’s body and washed him. 

When he was clean, Gene reversed their positions and returned the favor, his long, capable fingers skimming over Babe’s freckled skin, curling around Babe’s hip and pulling him closer so that he could kiss him in the spray. Water dripped off Babe’s eyelashes, but he didn’t care, because this, right here? This was perfect.

Perfect.

After, Babe twisted the water off and they both clambered out of the shower stall to dry themselves and change into comfortable clothes. After Gene had pulled a pair of Babe’s flannel pj pants on, he sprawled back on the bed and smirked. “You sure tired me out, Edward.” Gene said, peeking one eye open to gaze up at Babe. “’M hungry again, too.”

Babe couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks, but he smirked back at the other man. “That so? Well, lucky for you, I know where the food is. Come on,” he said, grasping Gene’s hand and hauling him up to his feet, “let’s go watch some tv and I’ll feed you.”

Fingers laced, Gene followed Babe from the room, and again, Babe thought: _This is perfect._

* * *

They fell asleep together on the couch, and didn’t wake until Babe’s ma returned after her shift later that night. Then, it was to the sound of the lock clicking, and Gene bolted upright, his hand curling protectively over Babe’s waist, where it’d lain, relaxed, a moment before. 

“Babe?” His ma called, peering through the gloomy light of the living room.

“Here, ma,” Babe said, standing and stretching. Gene followed suit. “Fell asleep watching tv.”

The two of them padded into the kitchen, where Babe’s ma waited. As they emerged into the light, she cast her appraising gaze over them, and Babe fought hard not to blush, determined not to let anything show.

She let her concerned gaze linger just a bit longer on Gene, then she finally nodded, seemingly satisfied about something, and said “You look like you’re feeling better, dear.”

Gene smiled softly and bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I am, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Good.” She met Babe’s eyes and said “Well, I’ll leave you two to your tv. I’m gonna turn in early tonight—it was a long shift.”

Babe frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Just one of those days.” Then she waved her hand, as if brushing it away. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Babe’s cheek, then gave Gene a smile before heading upstairs to her room. 

Back on the couch, with some mindless reality show playing softly on the tv, Gene and Babe lounged together, their sides pressed close, their hands clasped. 

“So,” Babe started, casting a sideways glance at Gene, “tattoos, huh?”

Gene snorted inelegantly. “Yeah. Tattoos.”

“You never mentioned those before.”

Gene shrugged, and he seemed to hunch inward a bit, almost as if he was embarrassed. “They’re strange. I know that.”

“Strange?” Babe gaped. “If by strange you mean _sexy as fuck, _Gene, then yeah.” He huffed. “Because that’s what they are. Sexy as fuck.”

“Sexy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Babe grinned. “Sexy.” He nudged their shoulders together. “They mean anything?”

Gene glanced at him sideways and quirked a brow. “You really wanna know?”

“Yeah.”

Gene disentangled their hands so that he could hitch his t-shirt up and point. “This one,” he said, pointing to the one that twined across his hip—and now that Babe wasn’t as distracted, he noticed that the swirling pattern was full of symbols and letters that he didn’t understand, “this one represents my grandmother, and the healin’ that she taught me. It was my first—got it when I was much younger.” He pointed to the one that started on his rib and twisted around to his back. “And this one is for my mother. It contains one of her favorite healing songs, so that….” Gene paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, obviously overwhelmed, for a moment. “So that when I’m feeling weak, I remember that I’m not alone.” He blinked open wide, dark eyes, which glittered in the gloom.

“And this one?” Babe asked, tracing his own fingers over the star and fire pattern above Gene’s heart. “Who’s this for?”

“That one’s for me,” Gene said.

Babe frowned. “What’s it do?”

Gene met his eyes, seriously, as he answered: “It keeps the demons out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Remember, comments are love and encouragement! They keep me going and definitely make my day. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.
> 
> PS: As far as the tattoo I shamelessly stole from supernatural: I couldn't help myself and also I'm not sorry.


End file.
